


owned.

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Sugar & Spice [2]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14437359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Loki & En Dwi go to the party.





	owned.

**Author's Note:**

> mrevilside said: Hey! I really liked your AU FrostMaster piece with the Grandmaster as Loki’s sugar daddy. Could you write a longer piece, possibly E-rated (or at least M on AO3 - I have no shame!) along the same lines? (So no dub-con, please.) I’d love a series like Spitting Seeds, but one can’t have everything!

En Dwi Gast likes to make an entrance. Loki has known this about him since the beginning, and he watches with undisguised amusement as En Dwi ascends the grand staircase into the wide-reaching hall, and his handkerchief comes loose from his pocket, falling onto the red carpet of the stairs. Initially, he keeps on walking, then seems to glance down at his pocket, _astonished_ at its loss: this is Loki’s cue.

He gracefully descends the stairs himself, every bit the _Odinson prince_ , and he picks the handkerchief up, folding it into a square before catching En Dwi by the hip and carefully setting it into his pocket, ever the apparent attendant, even in his vibrantly red suit. The room is _palpably_ quiet as En Dwi turns to face them, and then he smiles.

“Hi!” he calls out, and he puts out his arm, subtly encouraging Loki to take it. En Dwi’s suit is a thing of beauty, crafted of black silk with gold embroidered in shining patterns along the sleeves, the trousers, and the body of the thing, and Loki is aware of how _obscene_ they must look side by side.

The handkerchief Loki had picked up, that little act of theatre – the handkerchief is matched perfectly to the fabric of Loki’s red suit. They mingle for a time: there is something exhilarating about being at a party as nothing but eye candy. Perhaps it ought frustrate Loki, to see so many people’s gazes pass over him, and then speak as if he isn’t there, instead focusing upon En Dwi, and yet it’s awfully _freeing_ , in a way. Loki sips at his champagne, enjoys the warmth of his partner at his side, and can enjoy the hubbub of polite society without ever trying to work in a word.

It’s wonderful.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor hisses, and Loki’s gaze shifts lazily toward him. He follows the path Thor had cut through the crowded room, and he sees his father, a scowl deepset in his mouth, a furrow on his brow. Loki toasts him, a smirk pulling at his lips, and Odin turns on his heel, stalking away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh no,” Loki says, unconvincingly. He disentangles himself from En Dwi’s arm, taking a slow sip of his drink, and he looks at Thor’s burnished red sportcoat, worn casually over a loose shirt. “We match.”

“Why are you upon the arm of En Dwi Gast?” Thor asks, lowly, and Loki reaches out, plucking an imaginary piece of lint from his brother’s collar. Thor’s hands are clenched at his sides, and Loki cannot help but _thrill_ at how angry Thor seems, at how furious.

“Ever naïve, aren’t you, brother?” Loki murmurs. “Tell me, what did you think I would do when Odin turned me out? Come _crawling_ back, begging for my dear family’s _charity_ , just as they had once taken me in? Out of the _goodness_ of their hearts? With scarcely a moment between one thought and the next, I was homeless and _penniless_ , Thor.”

“You could have asked me to help you,” Thor says, and Loki chuckles.

“Why? You don’t owe me anything, Thor. Nor does Odin.”

“Don’t—” Thor sighs, looking down at him. “Don’t… Call him that.”

“I won’t call him anything,” Loki promises, and he leans in, hugging Thor tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then he takes a step away. “Good night, Thor.”

“Loki, you’re _better_ than this, I—”

“Good night,” Loki repeats, and he moves gracefully across the room. As he comes up behind En Dwi, the man throws his arm easily around Loki’s shoulder, pulling him close, and Loki feels himself _relax_ under the possessive touch.

\--

Loki lets out a low sound of pleasure as En Dwi pins him against the wall, his hands above his head, En Dwi’s other hand trailing down his shirt. As the night had gone on, and the other attendees had become more and _more_ soppy with alcohol, En Dwi had become increasingly possessive, and Loki is so, _so_ glad he’d elected to get them a room in this very hotel.

“I hate it, _hate_ it when people touch what’s mine,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Loki’s lips, and Loki nods his agreement, arching under the other man’s touch as it dips lower, dragging his fingers over Loki through the fabric of his trousers. Loki can feel his cock _twitch_ , feeling blood rush downward, and his skin is alight with excitement. “But _you_ , you love it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki replies, bringing up his legs to draw En Dwi closer, and En Dwi hisses out a little sound as Loki’s heels dig into the backs of his thighs. “I’m _only_ here for you, En Dwi,” Loki purrs, tipping his head back and inviting En Dwi to mouth at his neck, which En Dwi does, _immediately_. Loki gasps as En Dwi’s hand slips underneath the waistband of the tight, red trousers, wrapping around his cock, and En Dwi nips at the column of his throat as he does so.

“Please,” En Dwi murmurs. “If I gave you the order, you’d, ha, you’d suck any guy off in that room, huh?”

“Suck _off_ any guy in that room,” Loki corrects, reflexively, and En Dwi laughs against his throat, the sound vibrating against Loki’s skin and leaving him _shivering_.

“Don’t correct my grammar, Loki,” En Dwi murmurs, his voice so deep and dangerous that it makes Loki’s hips give the tiniest _thrust_ against his hand, feeling his cock twitch in En Dwi’s palm, feels it wet at his head. “Not unless you want me to tease.”

“Oh, I love it when you tease,” Loki whispers, breathlessly. “I love it when you bring me so close to the edge I feel I might _die_ without release, and then you refuse to give it to me. It makes me feel—” _Safe. Taken care of. Adored._ “Owned.” Sometimes, Loki thinks, looking into the golden irises of En Dwi’s eyes, it feels like En Dwi is more than he is. En Dwi has leaned back to look at Loki’s face, his gaze hungry, his lips parted, but there’s something _more_ to the look – sometimes, Loki feels that just maybe, En Dwi might be able to read his mind.

“Okay, pretty boy,” En Dwi murmurs, his hand squeezing around Loki’s cock, “I’ll, uh, I’ll _indulge_ you. All night long.”

“All night?” Loki repeats, almost _ashamed_ by the excitement in his voice, and En Dwi grins.

“All night,” he confirms, and when his lips crash against Loki’s own, Loki cannot help but moan beneath them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out [my Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com) for more, or if you want to send in a request. Just a note that I won't be writing anything else in this specific 'verse, however.


End file.
